


buttons on a coat

by waveydnp



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Closeted, Clothes Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 10:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: dan meets up with his mum while he’s wearing phil’s coat





	buttons on a coat

April is a weird month.

It’s like a middleman between winter and spring, and an indecisive one at that.

Yesterday was warm. Dan wore a jumper when he went to therapy, and at one point he even had to roll up the sleeves so he wouldn’t start sweating. Phil opened all the windows in the flat and the air that came in was sweet. It smelled like new beginnings.

Today the air feels like it’s blowing across the surface of something frozen. It goes straight through the thin material of his jumper and nips at his skin as he and Phil hurry the few blocks it takes to walk from their building to the restaurant.

Phil was smart. Phil wore a coat. He says unless it’s the dog days of summer, he’s got his mother’s voice nagging in his head to dress warmly. He spent so many years being fussed over that he can’t ignore that advice now even when he wants to.

Dan only got fussed at when he left his room a mess or stole his parents’ booze.

Laura is waiting for them at the restaurant. It’s nice to see her, but Dan’s got other things on his mind.

He’s got his mum on his mind.

He’s thinking about how she’s in town today. He’s thinking about how it’s early afternoon and her meeting will surely only last a few hours and yet the only reason they’re meeting up later is so that she can give him the denim jacket he forgot at her house over Christmas. He’s thinking about the fact that he hasn’t seen her since Christmas.

He’s wondering if he even cares. He reckons he must care a little, or he wouldn’t be thinking about it.

He orders wine with his hummus plate. Phil squeezes his thigh under the table.

Phil gets it. Or at least, he gets that it’s complicated for Dan. He’d offered to come with, but Dan had said no. He’ll need the time it takes to walk there to gather his thoughts. He’ll need the time it takes to walk home to let those thoughts disperse.

He’ll need those walks to be alone. He doesn’t always want to do his thinking alone, but sometimes he really, really does.

Besides, according to Karen, Phil’s just a mate. A best mate, yes, a flatmate and business partner, but still. No need for him to tag along with Dan to meet her for such a perfunctory reason. And Phil’s never been good at small talk.

She texts him to tell him she’ll be out of her meeting soon and her train comes in an hour. Apparently he’s lucky she was able to pencil him into her tight schedule at all. He looks out the restaurant window and considers texting back to tell her that something came up and he can’t make it and maybe she should just send the jacket in the post.

Then Phil asks, “Do you have to go now?”

Dan nods. “Can I borrow your coat?”

-

Phil’s coat fits Dan well enough. It hugs him a little more tightly than his own would, just tight enough to remind him it doesn’t belong to him, but he likes that. It smells like Phil. Dan buries his fists in the pockets. Phil is with him even when he isn’t.

So it’s a nice walk. Fresh air and exercise that he certainly wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. His mum texts again to make sure he’s coming.

He doesn’t answer. He’s almost there. He wishes it didn’t feel like a brick in his chest every time he thinks about her. He wishes he knew how to stop blaming her.

It’s a wash of conflicting feelings when he sees her. It’s love and sadness and anger and resentment and he’s still not sure how to let go of all the latter things to focus on the former. He knows he’s old enough to appreciate that things were hard for her too. But perhaps he’ll always be a bit of a child deep down.

Perhaps having his childhood cut so short means he’ll be perpetually searching for the innocence that was taken from him.

Perhaps he’s just an overdramatic son of a bitch.

She hugs him like she’s happy to see him. He hugs her back the same way. Maybe he is. Maybe he’ll always love her and hate her at the same time.

“Bit nippy today, yeah?” she says, shivering when the wind blows a particularly icy gust. “Thought it was meant to be spring.”

She’s such a perfect brit, his mum. She’s perfected the art of talking small about the weather.

“Yeah.”

“You look great,” she says. “I like this coat on you.”

He doesn’t know what makes him say it. “It’s Phil’s, actually.” He doesn’t know why his mouth clamps down on the words he’s got prepared to follow, the words that will qualify an action like wearing another man’s coat.

He doesn’t want to qualify it. He wants those words to die forever. This is his mother.

“Big boys, the two of you are,” she says. “How’s he doing? I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen him.”

“He’s good.”

He should say more. There’s a look on her face like she wants him to say more. Like she’s been waiting for him to say more.

He thinks maybe he’ll keep her waiting forever.

“You should bring him next time you come home,” she says. “Maybe for Easter?”

Easter. It’s only a couple weeks away. Dan’s stomach drops just thinking of having to be in that place again. That place holds nothing but pain.

He forces a smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

He knows he won’t. But he likes that she asked.

“How’s Colin?”

-

He takes Phil’s coat off and slips his arms into his own before he walks back home. London is full of keen eyes and camera phones, and he’s got a liveshow to do in just a couple hours.

He stops into the Starbucks near their flat. Phil’s smile when he’s presented with a venti caramel macchiato upon Dan’s return is the best thing Dan’s seen all day. He hangs up Phil’s coat and then gathers him into a hug that puts the one he gave his mum to shame.

Phil hugs him back like he understands. Dan thinks he does, or at least as well as he can for a boy who never had to wonder whether or not his mother loved him.

Phil kisses his neck, just under his ear. “Your skin is cold.”

Dan nods. “My coat’s not as warm as yours.”


End file.
